Lost Memories
by Lalaithion Haldirion
Summary: Eccaia only knows one thing. The one who raised her and taught her everything she knows was killed by those under command of the Witch King of Angmar. She vows to get revenge, but must face many challenges along the way. Including a quest with a particularly shiny, gold ring. Warning, I will be going off the rails of canon. I also use Sindarin relatively often.
1. Chapter 1

"_Ada?"_

"_Yes, Rhavaniel?" Ada responds as he tucks me into bed._

"_I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt that I was with some scary people… and they hurt me… but they let me go after a long time. After that, you showed up and saved me." I smile brightly. "You'll always come save me, won't you, Ada?"_

"_Always, Rhavaniel."_

_Ada places a kiss on my forehead. I giggle. As he stands, I catch his sleeve._

"_Will you stay 'till I sleep? Please?" I ask shyly._

"_Of course, tithpen."_

* * *

We reach the looming wooden wall outside of Bree. I assist Lhindor in hiding her elvish features as Estel steps up to the wall. We stand near to the edge of the forest, barely visible from the gate. I adjust her hair so that it covers the tips of her ears and pull up her hood. My own hood and bandana had long since been up. Lhindor frowns in realisation to this fact. She had always disapproved of me hiding in the shadows.

I hear the wooden door open behind me and sweep a hand in its direction, tilting my head towards Lhindor. Lhindor shakes her head as she walks past me. I follow after her and Estel, subconsciously fingering the blade in my wrist holster. I step back as Estel leads Lhindor into the Prancing Pony. She glances back at me just before the door closes.

I observe my surroundings. The three of us had previously agreed upon me entering separately from them.

_"My eyes will attract unwanted attention." I argue._

_"I do not like it…" Lhindor mutters._

_"Fileg… I know you don't, but there is nothing we can do. I'd allow the both of you to slip by unnoticed if it meant being suspected. I'd lay down my life for you. Both of you."_

_"She's right, you know." Estel cuts in._

_"There are two 'she's here. Which do you speak of?" Lhindor sighs in exasperation._

_"Her." He points to me. "Glowing eyes, glowing yellow, no less, will immediately attract suspicion. Seeing as we will have to practically kidnap the hobbits if Mithrandir does not show, suspicion will only slow us down."_

_I nod in agreement. "I can enter the Prancing Pony separately from you and exit the same way. I've also seen the hobbits before, and therefore will recognise them. I'll signal you when they arrive. I'll drum my fingers on the table twice then make a fist and knock my knuckle on the table." I demonstrate._

_"I still don't like it." Lhindor sighs. "But I suppose you're right."_

Deciding that I had waited long enough to not be assumed related to them in any way, I enter the Prancing Pony. I sit in the opposite corner from Lhindor and Estel, next to the door. Keeping an eye on the door, I listen into the conversations happening around me. None of it was important information.

Approximately an hour or so later, four hobbits pile into the bar.

"- Underhill. My name's Underhill." The dark haired hobbit, Frodo, says.

I signal Estel and Lhindor, who shift barely noticeably but enough to say that they understand.

The four hobbits go to the bar to get drinks. Three leave the bar and sit in the middle of the room, holding half-pints of ale. One lingers by the bar a while longer.

"Sam. He'll be here. He'll come." Frodo says.

I imagine he speaks of Mithrandir. The hobbit who went to the bar returns, holding a full pint. Their conversation proves to be amusing, another hobbit going to the bar. I am slightly concerned when Frodo asks the Bartender about Estel.

"He's one of them rangers, Dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider."

"And the figure beside him?"

"That one is called Sparrow."

The Bartender walks off to serve his other customers. Sparrow. I raise an eyebrow in the shadow of my hood. Sparrow quite fit Lhindor. Fileg indeed. Little bird.

Frodo now stands by the second hobbit who went to the bar. "Pippin!" Frodo grabs Pippin.

Frodo slips on someone's boot and falls back. A small shiny item that was previously clasped in his hand is thrown upwards. It's a small golden ring. The ring. I glance up at my friends across the room, eyes glowing. A shocked gasp echoes through the room. I turn back to Frodo, only to find that he is no longer there.

Estel stands, placing a hand in front of Lhindor to stop her. I too stand, oblivious to the look Estel sends me. I feel a pull, bringing me to a table. In the distance, I hear the shriek of a Nazgul. Frodo suddenly reappears, having pulled the ring off his hand. The pull disappears, throwing me slightly off balance.

Estel pushes past me, grabbing Frodo by the shoulder. He whispers something in Frodo's ear before dragging him upstairs. I shake off the uneasy feeling, placing a hand on the table next to me.

"Where's Frodo?" I hear a voice say. One of the hobbits, Pippin, had asked this.

The one called Sam stands, looking around as he sets his mug down. "I think that ranger, Strider, took him upstairs…" He says. "Strider is no longer in his seat and his friend seems to be on edge… well, more than before."

I raise an eyebrow. The hobbit was more observant than he looked. The other two look up. They set down their drinks and reach out for whatever they can lay their hands on. Pippin's friend reaches out for a candlestick, and Pippin a stool. I grab Pippin and his friend before they do anything. I send a glance back at Lhindor and walk the two upstairs.

We wait outside the door until Lhindor joins us. The five of us enter the room. Estel glances up before looking back at Frodo.

"You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They are coming."

* * *

The hobbits lie down on the large bed. I stand beside the window, looking out and half leaning against the wall. Rain patters on the floor. Lightning streaks through the sky. I silently drum my fingers on the handle of one of my many blades. Lhindor sits on a chair beside me.

"You should sleep." I say suddenly.

"Two eyes are better than one." She retorts softly.

"I have two eyes."

"Mmhmm.. As do I. Together, that makes four, which is much better to watch over four hobbits than two."

I nod absently. "However, two untired eyes are better than four tired eyes to watch over four hobbits."

She hums, looking out the window. I half glare at her back. I draw a blade when I hear a sound from the door. Turning, I see Estel entering quietly. I sheathe my blade.

"The trap is set. Pillows in the hobbit room's beds. That should confuse them for some time."

I nod. A Nazgul shrieks, louder this time than before. They are closer.

"Faith be with me." Lhindor whispers.

Estel moves to the other side of the window and looks out. Thundering hooves sound from outside the gate. A loud bang.

"They ran down the gate." I report.

The Nazgul enter the Prancing Pony across from us. The sound of their swords stabbing the beds repeatedly fills my head. I lift a hand to my temple, gently pressing it. Dark shapes move in the room across ours. They shriek again.

"They found the decoys." Estel mutters helpfully.

My head feels like it is being split in half. I rub my head harder. They had always affected me, but especially the Witch King of Angmar. He isn't one of those stabbing the decoys, thankfully.

"What are they?" Frodo asks quietly.

The screams must have woken them. I sigh heavily, feeling a heavy weight on my chest. My shoulder burns. The Witch King had stabbed me in the shoulder a few years past. He is near, likely outside, waiting for news of the hobbit's death and ring's retrieval. How disappointed he will be.

"Nazgul. Once Kings of Men, turned dark by greed and want for power. They want the power of the One Ring to be returned to their master. They will hunt you for as long as you carry that ring." I reply. "But do not let that discourage you, Frodo. You have friends who will help you along your journey. But the first step is to sleep. Rest, young hobbits."

The hobbits settle back into an uneasy sleep. I prompt Estel to sleep as much as he can. It's a long journey back, especially with four clueless hobbits. Estel slumps in his chair and sleeps.

"Rest, Fileg. We'll be doing a lot of traveling tomorrow." I urge.

"Is there something you don't want me to see?" She jests, quirking an eyebrow.

"Perhaps so." My voice takes on a tone of exasperation. "Or perhaps I simply would like my friend to rest!"

"But I am not tired enough to rest, so it would be pointless as-"

"You cannot do this every night, Lhindor. Being an elf means you require less sleep, not no sleep!"

"Fine." Lhindor huffs. "I sleep tonight, you sleep tomorrow night, deal?"

I nod curtly, pointing to a nice empty wall area. Of course I couldn't guarantee sleep for myself tomorrow. I always have too much on my mind. Sleep is not a necessity for me. Even as a supposed half elf, I sleep less than the average elf. I do, however tire easier. But no one knows. I never let anyone know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for posting this late! I've been quite busy with a whole bunch of things piling up and only managed to finish this today. Thank you so much for your reviews. They mean a lot to me! Without further ado, I bring you chapter 2.**

* * *

"Where do we next rest?" I mutter to Estel.

We had been on the road for the better part of this week, and our surroundings are becoming horribly familiar.

"Weathertop," he whispers back.

"Weathertop is a foul place."

I don't mention the events that happened there. The wargs, the orcs, the blood that soaked my cloak but wasn't mine. For a moment, I pause, lost in an old memory. Then I shake it off, and continue walking next to Estel.

Each step closer to Weathertop causes my heart to pound in my chest. My eyes flick around, searching for shapes in the shadows. Well, at least more than normal. We take a quick stop to stare at the ominus construction that is Weathertop.

Setting down our bags, the hobbits and I make camp. Estel and Lhindor scout out our path. I lay out the four short swords we had bought for the hobbits. They would allow the hobbits to defend themselves if they knew how.

The hobbits shrivel under my glare everytime they mention making a fire within my hearing. After I put my foot down, they decide not to make a fire, and instead gnaw on stale bread. Stale bread is better than nothing. Better than some of the things I've had to eat.

Estel and Lhindor return, bringing news that we would be safe for the time being. They accept the bread and join our little huddle circle for warmth. Hopefully we'd be safe from the Nazgûl. I can still hear and sense them at a distance, but they cannot sense me. It's the hidden aura that creates a vacuum-like effect in the energy. No one can sense anyone in the area near me. I look out into the darkness, straining slightly. Dark shapes move, but come no closer.

Lhindor reminds me of our agreement and takes first watch. Settling against the wall of the overhang, I wrap my cloak tighter around me. My eyes close out of habit. Sleeping with my eyes open was something I only do in company I trust. A soft hand on my shoulder prompts me to open my eyes.

Looking up, I see Lhindor frowning at me. "I'll never get used to seeing you sleep with your eyes closed."

I shrug, closing my eyes once more and allowing sleep to take me.

* * *

"_Yrch!" I spat, sensing orcs surrounding the tower. _

_I turned to Bert. "There are many of them. Some are on wargs."_

_He nodded solemnly. No words passed between us, but we understood each other perfectly well. I returned the solemn nod. I stood in the shadows, across from Bert. Orcs flooded weathertop. _

"_They're not here!" A snivelly voice complained. _

_An arrow appeared between his eyes. More flew from the shadows, impaling orcs and slaying them swiftly. I became Thurindae, the hidden shadow, killing all who came in my way. I reached behind for another arrow and was met with emptiness. I sighed, instead drawing my twin blades with a twirl. I jumped into battle, stabbing their weak points and shifting around, taking advantage of the shadows. _

_The bodies of orcs began to pile up, making it almost impossible not to step on dead orcs. I danced around the orcs, blades flashing in the moonlight. Bert once told me that if hidden properly, all that could be seen of me would be my glowing yellow eyes. I assumed that's what could be seen of me now. Flashing blades and glowing eyes. _

_I could still feel Bert's presence around, letting me know he had not yet died. He was 5 meters away, facing down 3 orcs at the same time. He fought like they did, in the light and without shifting around unseen. I plowed my way through the orcs, reaching Bert's side in mere seconds. The orcs seemed never-ending, as more pile in every second._

_As we slayed more and more orcs, the amount flooding in seems to lessen. Victory was near at hand. Then a body fell on me from behind. Recognising it as Bert's I catch him and lay him on the ground. A knife stuck out of his gut, mocking me. Red filled my vision. _How dare they. _I flew into a rage, slaying all the orcs near Bert and going outwards. I get a few nicks and cuts but nothing too serious that would stop my revenge._

_The last orc fell to the ground, missing a head. I let out a huff of air then ran over to where Bert lay. _No, no no no no no.. _The knife had pierced his stomach, making him bleed profusely. His eyes cracked open and met mine. _

"_Eccaia." He coughed out. "Take my.. my weapons. You need them.. more. I feel death near. Burn me… separately from.. those orcs. You.. hurt.. go east.. Imladris. I.. love you.. my child.. more than you.. know. Namarë." _

_His body went limp. I could feel his soul leave his body along with his last breath. I bit my lip. I would honor his wishes. A single tear fell from my eye. A single tear for my fallen friend, mentor and.. father. I slammed my mask of cold anger on and let out a guttural cry of grief. I stormed around the battlefield, piling up bodies upon bodies of dead orcs. I lit a fire and burned them all._

_I took care of Bert's funeral differently, taking off his weapons before neatly arranging his hands to cross over his chest. I lit his fire and watched the flames consume his body. _

_The adrenaline rush disappeared all of a sudden and I fell to my knees. My balance was thrown off from this, causing me to fall sideways onto the floor. My body ached. I had many cuts and lacerations and I desperately needed to rest. My eyes slipped closed and I found sweet relief in sleep._

* * *

I jolt awake. My hands clench into fists and rise up to my head. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to fix something I'd rather forget. But Lhindor is by my side, asking questions that I would give no answers to.

"Leave me alone." I growl at last, fleeing up the hill to the upper part of Weathertop. I climb one of the broken down pillars, standing on the top. I look out over the world beneath me. I could disappear if I wanted to. I could run away. But I need to avenge Bert and my brother. Avenge their deaths by killing the one who ordered him dead.

I sing out a few notes of a low haunting melody I had heard from somewhere long ago. My legs shake. I have to climb down before I end up falling off. I place a hand on my heart and one on the floor where _he_ lay.

"Namarë, ada." I mouth.

I return to the others, emotions carefully hidden under yet another mask. _An onion. Because you have so many layers, Eccaia._ Everything feels so wrong and we are only one quarter of the way back to Imladris. A sigh makes its way past my lips. The sky is still dark. It is about 1 or 2 hours until daylight.

In the distance, I can still sense the Nazgul, searching for us with all that they have. Perhaps it is the darkness of Weathertop that makes it so they cannot see us. Once it is day, we would be in plain sight. All of a sudden, I speak my mind.

"We should leave now. They will catch us in the day."

"The hobbits…"

"Have rested enough." I snap. "We should not stay here any longer than we must. It is a large towering structure in the middle of flat ground. They will be able to outrun us."

"No, Eccaia. It would be unwise to disrupt them now." Lhindor protests.

"It would be unwise to stay." My eyes blaze, red and threatening in the darkness. "You do not know the darkness that surrounds this place. The things that happened in the past."

Turning around, I storm down the hill to wait for them at the bottom. She doesn't understand. Of course, how can she? She wasn't raised and trained to be an assassin. She didn't have to grow up in that _hell._ Then again, I am not normal. Nor will I ever be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Late again, I know... By three weeks and a day? Life is eating up my time. I might have to reduce updates to once or twice a month. We'll see how it goes. Enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

Day after day, we spend trekking to our location. Nothing happened at Weathertop, thankfully. We make camp at the trollshaws. Three quarters of the journey done. Looking around for firewood, I spot some athelas. I retrieve my herb pouch from my hip. Pulling out my knife, I gather some of the herb. The pouch returns to my hip, slightly heavier than before.

I gather firewood and return, sitting next to Lhindor. From the corner of my eye, I can see her about to ask a question.

"You would do well not to ask questions you do not want answers to, Lhindor."

She draws away, hurt. I had not called her Lhindor so harshly in many years.

"Goheno nin, Eccaia. No questions will come from me."

I look away, my hands curling into balls. Of course I had to go and ruin our budding friendship. Pride stops me from apologising. I stand again, making an excuse to go get more wood. I need to be alone for a while longer. I walk straight away from camp for a whole minute before I hear the hoofbeats. That's not good. I can sprint back in less than 20 seconds, but I can also distract them.

I call out twice like a barn owl and once like a barn owl before deliberately making a lot of noise and going towards the hoofbeats. At the clearing ahead, I meet the Nazgûl on his high horse. His presence feels like it is crushing me. I nock an arrow to my bow.

"Fool. You have never beaten me in battle before. What makes you think you can do so now?" The Witch King snarls.

"I have grown stronger, and faster with practice. Fight me, oh Lord of Nazgûl, and we shall see who is the _true _winner."

I replace my arrow and slowly remove my bow and quiver. I draw my knives, twirling them menacingly. He dismounts his horse and draws his single long sword. A regular steel sword, as long as my arm. He's saving his morgul blade for the ringbearer. The least I can do is stall for time.

Taking a step forward, I bow mockingly before charging at him. I could fight with shadow, but there's no point if I don't keep him distracted. Slice once, twice, dodge. If he doesn't use any sort of black magic, I may yet defeat him… I hope that the others are running. If they heard my call, they should be. Leaves rustle behind the Nazgul. Or maybe not…

I keep his attention on me for the whole time. He doesn't notice or suspect anything until his robes are lit on fire. A shriek pierces the relative silence. My hands clamp over my ears instinctively. When I look up, all I see is the Nazgul retreating on his horse, fire consuming his robes. It's a stark contrast to the dark night.

Estel smiles sheepishly. "Thought you might need some help."

I smile back, spots blurring my vision. "Hannon le, Estel." _[Thank you.]_

Apparently, I had fallen over. I stand, suddenly disoriented. He must have hit me with his steel sword. I frown at the stabbing sensation in my shoulder. I reach up to feel a small sticky wound where he must have stabbed me.

"We must move on. Where is Lhindor? And the hobbits?" I ask.

"Already on their way. We can catch up with them quickly." He eyes me. "You're unstable. Did he hurt you?"

I hesitate. Both of us know how bad it could get if I lied at this point. "Yes. Stabbed in the shoulder. We must hurry."

The spots are filling my vision quickly. I drop to one knee, pressing a fist into the floor to keep me stable. "Rhaich." _[Curses.] _

I feel my mind trying to leave my body. In my limited senses, I see Estel draw nearer. "Lean on me." He murmurs as he pulls me to my feet.

We stumble through the forest, Estel half carrying, half dragging me. I do my best to keep my feet under me and walk, but I keep tripping.

After what feels like hours, but in reality is about 10 minutes, we catch up to the others. I detach myself from Estel and use a tree as support. It offers confidence and strength which I accept gratefully. I feel my eyes starting to close. If I gave up now, I wouldn't be able to avenge either of my role models. I force myself to take my own weight and start walking towards Imladris. It's at least 2 more days away, maybe 3 at this pace.

I trip and sink back to my knees, holding back a cry of frustration. After all these years, a stab wound from _him_ is what's going to take me down? A shudder runs through my body. Cold. I feel the cold more intensely than ever, and I've been dumped in a pile of snow in my night clothes.

"-off his guard?"

A sword touches the skin on my neck. I look up blankly. My eyes won't focus anymore. Gasping, the figure cries out. I can't keep hold of my consciousness anymore. I slip out into an old memory.

* * *

_Floating. I was floating. Or maybe being carried. I couldn't tell. I was dreaming. Or so I thought, until I was unceremoniously dumped into the cold snow. I jolted up, shivering. Laughter filled my ears. What was this? Some sort of prank? Did they find this funny? I picked up some snow, compacted it into a ball and threw it at the nearest laughing figure. It muffled him, maybe because I managed to hit him in the face with the ball. _

_My vision cleared. Elladan and Estel. Where did Elro- oh… He was the one I hit. I raised an eyebrow at the others. _This _is their idea of fun? I could play that game too. Cold snow impacts the back of my neck. I arched my back, shaking the snow away. Lhindor smirked at me. I narrowed my eyes, quickly making and throwing a ball at her as well. _

_If those four would be against me, I would need some backup. I ran to the ground outside Legolas's room. No footprints were left on the snow. It's good to be an elf. _

"_Legolas!" I called. "Backup!" _

_Minutes later, Legolas poked his head outside. He jumped down from his balcony, leaving a very light dent in the snow. _

"_Snowball fight." _

_That was all I needed to say, as he nodded solemnly and began making snowballs. Deciding to make a snow fort, I gathered up some snow to make our walls. _

_Soon, snowballs filled the air. None of us made it back inside dry. Half-way through, I sneezed. Legolas gave me a look of concern but let it slide. I brushed it aside as well. It was normal for me when it got too cold. This, however, was different. I was blue with cold and constantly shivering. After throwing his last snowball, Estel insisted we go inside. I gladly agreed and followed him in._

"_Eccaia." Estel started, grabbing my shoulders. "Eccaia. Eccaia! Wake up!"_

* * *

"October the 23th, 8am. The House of Healing. Congratulations, Eccaia, it has been 3 days since you passed out."

"Wha?" I blink my eyes open then immediately regret it. "Ugh." I groan.

"Three days recovering. You're perfectly fine now, I assume."

"Indeed." Suppressing a wince, I sit up. "I'm sure there was one that was two dozen weeks… no?"

Stretching, I swing my legs off the bed. I wince again when I stand. The skin at my shoulder feels too tight.

"That's it then? You pass out for three days, wake up and you're going to go?"

"Indeed. Come with me, if you will, Lhindor." I glance over my shoulder at her. "To make sure I stay on my feet, as you always insist."

She shrugs and takes the couple steps towards me. Lhindor offers me her arm, looking very much like a little bird.

"As you will, Fileg." I walk out the door, stopping when her familiar footsteps don't follow me.

"Lhindor?"

"Fileg?" Lhindor asks, faintly. "Where did you get that from?"

"You looked like a little bird with your arm stuck out like that." I mimic her earlier movement.

As she nods, I see a memory pass through her eyes. She shakes it away and plasters on a fake smile. "As you will, Eccaia."

I watch her go with a frown on my face. What did Fileg mean to her? I make a mental note to ask her later. The list of questions has grown long now. Perhaps today I will ask her all my questions. Or perhaps I would put it off for another year. Who knows what could happen.


End file.
